The Best Laid Plans
by Glisseo
Summary: ... well, you know how the saying goes. Harry plans a surprise proposal - but he might be the one getting surprised ...


**For hpshipweeks on tumblr, and also for the prompt: 'Ginny proposes. Harry doesn't seem it coming.'**

"Gin? Letter for you …"

Waving the envelope in his hand, Harry came into the living room, where his girlfriend was recumbent on the sofa, leg propped up on a pile of cushions and mug of tea firmly in hand. It was not often easy to get Ginny to stay still for long, but the previous day's match against Falmouth had seen her take a nasty Bludger to the knee, and Harry (ignoring her protests that _he_ never rested when he was injured in the field) was insisting that she remain on the sofa until further notice.

"Who from?"

He passed it in front of her eyes for inspection.

"Oh, Deb!" she said delightedly. "You remember Deb – from school?" she added to Harry, whose mind produced a hazy picture of a dark-haired girl in Ginny's year. She made friends wherever she went; it was difficult to keep track of them.

Instead of taking the letter, she turned beseeching brown eyes on him.

"I don't suppose …"

"I could read it to you?"

"Well, I am an invalid, after all."

Harry tutted with gusto, but perched himself on the sofa arm behind Ginny's head, and unfolded the letter.

" _Dear Ginny,_ " he read aloud. " _How are you? It's been far too long since we last exchanged news. I hear your name all the time, how wonderful it is to say I know Harpies star Ginny Weasley! And of course I see the occasional picture of you with that handsome boyfriend of yours. You're so lucky to be with him, he's ever so attractive, and so macho. What a catch. He's really –"_

"Hmmm," said Ginny. "I think perhaps you are making this up."

"Rubbish," said Harry smoothly, angling the letter so she couldn't see it. "She's just very observant."

"Clearly," she agreed drily. "Would you read it properly, please?"

" _I can't wait any longer to tell you my big news – I'm engaged! Barnaby popped the question on a weekend away to the South of France. I wasn't expecting it at all – best surprise I've ever had! We're thinking June for the wedding. I do hope you can make it! And Harry, of course. What about you two – any sound of wedding bells on the horizon yet?!"_

Harry stared at the page, his voice sticking in his throat. He desperately wanted to look at Ginny, to gauge her reaction, but forced himself to carry on.

 _"I suppose it'll be in the paper as soon as he proposes …"_

Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes momentarily, trying to keep his tone steady as he continued.

 _"Well, I hope we will be able to catch up soon and talk properly, so I'll leave it here. Maybe lunch one day? Don't be a stranger! Love, Debs."_

"Oh, well, that's nice," said Ginny brightly. "I must remember to write back."

Harry blinked at her. "Yeah … yeah. Er, Ginny?"

"Mm?"

"What she said …"

"About you proposing?"

He nodded dumbly.

"Well, I had been wondering when you were going to do it," she said matter-of-factly, sipping her tea as if what she was saying was of no consequence at all.

Harry tried to say something, then realised he had no idea what that something might be.

"Right," he managed eventually. "Right. Yeah. Well -" the fog in his mind cleared slightly – "I can't tell you _when_ , obviously. I mean … it's a surprise. Plans. There are – big surprise plans."

 _What?_

"Oooh!" Ginny twisted in her seat, grinning up at him. "Big surprise plans. I like the sound of that."

"Yeah?" Harry tried to look pleased. "Good. 'Cause – it's – good, it'll be … great …"

"Then I've got something to look forward to."

"Def- definitely."

It was only when he'd excused himself to the kitchen, under the pretence of making another tea, that the gravity of what he'd done hit him, and he swore violently under his breath.

He was going to have to come up with something big.

And fast.

* * *

"What's the big deal?" Ron, brushing sawdust off his magenta robes, closed the Pygmy Puff cage he'd been cleaning and turned back to Harry, looking puzzled. "Doesn't matter if she knows you've got plans, as long as she doesn't know what they are, surely?"

"Well, that's sort of the problem," said Harry heavily.

"What is?"

"I don't _have_ any plans."

Ron looked at him for a long moment, then, wordlessly, passed him a brightly-coloured lollipop from a nearby shelf.

"Thanks," said Harry gratefully, unwrapping it. "I mean, obviously I was going to propose at _some_ point. I just – I don't know, we've both been busy and it sort of – slipped my mind."

The last bit of his sentence was obscured slightly by the lollipop, but he thought Ron got the gist.

"So you need to think of some big, surprise plans."

"Ideally. Sooner rather than later, or she'll cotton on …"

"Take it from me," said George, appearing from behind the counter, "it's very hard to surprise Ginny. And on the off-chance that you _do_ surprise her – well, be on your guard, she's prone to hexing when startled."

The bell above the door jangled as two young boys entered. They clocked Harry, leaning against the counter, and their eyes widened comically.

George, noticing this, looked thoughtful. "Should I put a sign outside saying you're here?" he asked in an undertone.

" _No_ ," said Harry emphatically.

"Why bother?" Ron put in. "It'll get down the street quickly enough. If anyone at the Leaky saw you come in …"

"I'll go in a minute. I just need your help," said Harry. He moved the lollipop around his mouth, and, realising – belatedly - where it had come from, added absently, "this won't do anything to me, will it?"

"Er – no," said Ron quickly. "So, you need our help?"

"Desperately." Harry sighed deeply. "I wouldn't put it past Ginny to already know I've got nothing planned …"

* * *

"… so I'm fairly sure he's got nothing planned," said Ginny, picking up stray crumbs on her plate with her forefinger. " _And_ I'm even more sure that he's stressing out about it now." She regarded her companions worriedly. "He's got a lot on at work since Ron left, I don't want him to think he has to put on a big – show, or something, but I know he'll feel like that."

"Why don't you just tell him that you know?" Hermione suggested.

Ginny blinked at her. "Yes, but then he might feel bad." She shook her head. "He's always doing these grand gestures – surprises for my birthday and Christmas and everything. Just once I want to do something big for _him_."

"You could propose," said Luna unexpectedly.

She continued sipping her Gillywater unconcernedly as Hermione and Ginny both turned to look at her in mild astonishment, meeting their gaze with her usual serene expression.

"Me propose?" Ginny repeated, slightly dazed. The cogs in her brain started turning – and then spinning, rapidly. "I … suppose I could …"

"But Harry's making plans," Hermione pointed out. "For _him_ to propose. And you don't know when, or where … are you just going to go home and ask him?"

"No," said Ginny. A plan was already forming in her mind; she felt a tingle of excitement. "Much, much bigger than that."

"I know that look," Hermione said warily, eyes narrowing. "You're plotting something, aren't you?"

"Yep. But I'm going to need a lot of help."

* * *

Over the next week, Harry struggled to juggle work and constructing plans for a magnificent surprise proposal. It felt like swimming against the tide; he was swamped with cases at the Auror Office, and his rare free time found him too exhausted to think, let alone plan anything. Robards was a decent man, but he did not play favourites, and had always been firm that no one could accuse him of treating Harry any differently to his other Aurors. Harry had only brief, snatched moments of spare time to spend scribbling frantically on scrap bits of parchment, trying desperately to come up with an idea. He met with Ron whenever he could, hoping that two heads would be better than one. More than once, he thought that Hermione might have a better idea of what Ginny would like; but she was incredibly busy herself, and besides, far too close to Ginny (and too terrible a liar) to be sure that she could keep the secret.

It did not help that whenever a fragment of a plan fell into place, he swiftly hit an obstacle. His work schedule became increasingly more hectic as he began to plot, and Ginny was forced to attend more training sessions than ever before as the Harpies geared up for the league final, making his first idea – whisking her away for a surprise trip – implausible.

He soon realised that something big and extravagant was not going to be particularly easy to achieve, but with this realisation came another: if that was what Ginny was expecting, then a small, quiet proposal would surprise her even more. Delighted by his own genius, he promptly used a telephone box in the village to book their favourite Muggle restaurant for the next evening they both had free, intending to simply bring out the ring (the one part of the process that had gone smoothly) at the end of the meal and ask her.

But although luck had always favoured Harry, it was, apparently, not on his side this time. Trying to keep the surprise as long as possible, he waited until Ginny returned home on the day of the reservation to tell her they would be going out for dinner; and at the very moment he opened his mouth, Andromeda's head appeared in the fireplace.

"I know it's short notice, Harry, and I'm ever so sorry, but I've been called away and I was hoping you could come over and watch Teddy for the evening …"

It was a struggle to keep his disappointment from showing. Harry adored his godson, and he and Ginny ended up having a perfectly enjoyable evening with him, but all the while he was thinking frantically. When would they next have the same evening off? Now that he had the ring, he could hardly bear to waste any more time not being engaged to Ginny.

They were expected at the Burrow the next day for Sunday lunch. Normally, Harry looked forward to such occasions, but when he thought about what he could have done, had he and Ginny had that time alone …

He was accosted by Arthur immediately after the meal, and lost sight of Ginny, but as her father talked enthusiastically about screwdrivers, an idea struck him.

The orchard beyond the paddock … if he could just get Ginny alone, he could suggest a walk, and there, he could propose. It was secluded and pretty; they had spent hours there in the summer after the battle, sometimes talking, sometimes just lying in silence, appreciating that they were both alive, and _there_.

He found her in the living room, laughing at something Bill had just said, and approached her quickly.

"Hey – fancy a walk?" he asked casually.

Her eyebrows shot up, and he wondered if she thought he was suggesting something – _else_. But before he could reassure her, there was a loud shriek, and heavily pregnant Fleur, rising from the nearest chair, cried:

"Oh! Oh! Ze baby! I am 'aving ze baby!"

There was uproar as the Weasleys rushed to her side, and Harry, stunned, could only stand and watch as Fleur, panting, was hustled out of the door.

* * *

By Monday morning, he was getting desperate. A perfectly good opportunity gone – and he wouldn't have minded so much if Fleur had actually _had_ the baby, but after several hours she and the Weasleys who had gone with her – including Ginny, with little Victoire - returned from the hospital completely baby-less.

"Eet must 'ave been a false alarm," was all Fleur had said blithely.

Harry had to try very hard not to tear his hair out.

But he had to try again. So as he and Ginny were both getting ready for leave for the day, he said – as casually as he could:

"How d'you fancy meeting for lunch today? Just a short break."

She looked surprised, but pleased.

"That'd be lovely. Are you sure you can get away?"

"No problem," said Harry, crossing his fingers in his pocket. "Erm, how about I meet you at that bench overlooking the beach in Holyhead? Looks like a nice day … I'd like to get out of London for a bit."

Ginny readily agreed, and Harry went off to the Ministry feeling extremely relieved and full of anticipation. It would not, perhaps, be the most romantic nor spectacular proposal, but he knew she loved that spot by the sea, not far from the Harpies' training ground, where he had come to meet her many times before. They would both have to go back to work afterwards, but hopefully – if all went to plan – by the time he returned to London, Ginny would no longer be his girlfriend, but his fiancée.

The morning went by in a blur, not least because of the two major arrests the Auror Office had just made; Harry was very aware that he would have to time his exit precisely, as Robards wouldn't look kindly on him disappearing for too long, and there was always something – some distraction, some task – waiting for him. Dodging all the obstacles would be a challenge … but then, he'd been doing that for most of his life, he thought to himself wryly.  
 _  
_He and Ginny had chosen to meet at half-past twelve. Estimating that it would take him three minutes to get down to the Atrium and Apparate to Holyhead, Harry slipped out of the office at twelve twenty-four.

He had taken three steps down the corridor when he heard his name being called. With a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut, he turned.

"Just the man I was hoping to see!" said Percy, striding towards him. Harry forced a smile, but panic was setting in: why did it have to be _Percy_ , of all people, whom he had come across? Percy, who was prone to long-winded digressions …

He greeted him distractedly, beyond trying to hide the strain in his voice.

"I'm jolly glad I ran into you, Harry. I've been meaning to have a chat with you for a while. Rather hard to get a word in edgeways when we're all at home, and of course it's frantic at home, with the little ones – wouldn't change it for the world, naturally, but you do miss the peace and quiet!" Percy laughed jovially. "Anyway, as I was saying, there's something we need to discuss –"

"I'm in a bit of a hurry, actually –"

"Obviously we're up to our ears in preparations for the World Cup – nothing I can't handle, obviously, but it's a lot to sort out! But I wanted to talk to you about security," Percy went on, either not hearing Harry, or ignoring him. "It's a big job, and a lot of very careful consideration needs to go into it. Can't be rushing something like this – even the preliminary conversations – why, like this one! – must be given a lot of deliberation and time."

"That's great," said Harry, hardly listening. Time was passing … "But I really need to go, so perhaps we could resched-"

"Nonsense!" hollered Percy. "What could possibly be more important than this? The World Cup, Harry! A Quidditch fan such as yourself must understand that!"

"Well, yes, but you see, I've got plans –"

"Now, as I was saying, the security detail really is very important. I assume you'll be there, Harry – we need the best Aurors watching out for the safety of the guests! Just because it's not in England, doesn't mean we don't have responsibilities!"

Just as Harry was seriously considering the option of hexing Percy and making a run for it (Hermione's Full Body Bind on Neville as he attempted to waylay their path to the Philosopher's Stone sprung to mind), the door of the Auror department opened and Robards stuck his head out.

"Potter, there you are. Come on, you're needed. Sorry if I'm interrupting something important, Weasley -"

"Oh, not at all," Percy exclaimed at once. "No, no, Harry, I mustn't keep you from your work! We'll find another time to talk … I'll look forward to it! Bye bye now!"

And Harry, feeling extremely violent towards Percy, had no choice but to follow Robards back into the office, thinking of Ginny, sitting on their bench, waiting for him, and the ring in his pocket that should have been on her finger.

He apologised profusely at first opportunity.

"Don't worry about it," she assured him, and her understanding made him feel even worse. "I assumed you'd got held up at work. Can't be helped. It was a nice idea, though."

"Yeah … work," he muttered, making a mental note to kick Percy in the shin the next time they were all at the Burrow.

But his resolved was strengthened by the incident. Enough was enough, as he told Ron the next day.

"I begged Robards for the evening off, and he gave in. I had to promise to do a lot of paperwork to make up for it, but …" He shrugged. "It's worth it. Hopefully."

"So what's the plan?"

Harry fiddled with the ring box, which he was carrying around with him. "Ginny's got the evening off too, so … I'll cook something, then just do it. Leave no time for any interruptions, or – or anything. I can't _take_ it any more. This whole thing has been a bloody disaster."

Ron pulled a sympathetic face. "Well, I hope it works out for you, mate."

"Yeah … me too."

* * *

He was home a good few hours before Ginny, and made sure that not a single second of that time went to waste: he cleaned the house within an inch of its life, carefully cooked her favourite meal, and even put on clean socks.

By the time Ginny returned, he was ready.

"What the -?" She let herself into the hall, gazing at him in disbelief. "You're – home! But -"

"I took the night off. It's been too long since we've had an evening together," said Harry, smiling at her. In all the chaos of trying to propose, he had missed just _being_ with Ginny; forgotten how calming he found her presence. "D'you want a glass of wine? Dinner's almost ready."

"Well, this is unexpected!" Ginny laughed delightedly, letting him take her cloak. "I might just go and get changed, but wine sounds lovely … oh, Harry, you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble!" She peered around the hall, and her eyes widened. "Did you _clean_?"

"Might have done," said Harry with a nonchalant shrug.

"You treasure. I am _very_ lucky." She hopped on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss as she headed towards the stairs. "Just give me a minute, then I can't wait to see what you've been up to in the kitchen! It smells _divine_."

Harry had to stop himself from dancing for joy as he hung her cloak up in the cupboard under the stairs. It had _worked_. After everything … he and Ginny were both here, and nothing could stop things from going ahead now -

The flash of light made him stop dead in his tracks.

Slowly, he bent to pick up the piece of parchment that had floated to the ground in its midst. The Auror Office's summons. He knew it all too well, but he had hoped – no, he had been _certain_ – that he would not be seeing it tonight. Robards had promised … he had said …

 _Potter – report to office now._

"What's that?"

Ginny had come back downstairs.

"Oh, no," she gasped, taking in the slip in his hand. "Not the office! I thought –"

"I know," said Harry tersely. "I thought, too." He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "I'm so sorry. I really … I tried …"

"Well, you can't help this!" said Ginny bracingly, rubbing his arms comfortingly. "I know you put a lot of effort into tonight, but … don't beat yourself up. We can do it another time. I'm not going to leave you, promise."

"Really?" Harry said, only half-joking.

"Of course not. You've far too much gold."

He snorted.

"Well, I'd better … go." He kissed her, wanting nothing more than to hold on and simply stay there, but the parchment was hot in his hand, reminding him that he had other places to be.

Back at the Auror department, Robards greeted him with the briefest flicker of sympathy.

"Sorry, Potter, I know you asked for tonight off, but we can't always guarantee a quiet night."

"It's no problem, sir," Harry lied bitterly.

Robards filled him in on the case – surveillance work. Fantastic, thought Harry. Bloody fantastic. He would be holed up in a ditch all night, when he could have – _should_ have – been at home with Ginny, celebrating their engagement.  
 _  
_"You'll be relieving Andrews, so don't put your Cloak on right away. Here are the co-ordinates." He shoved another scrap of parchment into Harry's hand. Feeling very sorry for himself indeed, Harry left.

He Apparated into almost-blackness, clutching his wand tightly as he adjusted from the disorientation of Apparition. When he regained his composure, he looked around for Andrews – but could see no one. In fact … this wasn't the wooded enclosure Robards had described. He was standing on a smooth surface, in open air, and – were those _stands?_ And hoops … and in the distance … a castle …

It looked exactly like – but it couldn't be … could it?

But as he focused intently on his surroundings, he realised that it couldn't be anywhere else.

He was on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.

Harry stared around in total confusion. Robards must have given him the wrong co-ordinates, but what a mix-up – why would he have been sending anyone here? Should he Apparate back to the office, and –

A sudden, high-pitched noise came out of the darkness, and Harry whirled about, wand at the ready – but it was accompanied by a crackle, and then a swift _BOOM_ , and then the sky was alight with colour; he looked up, and saw, scrawled across the inky canvas, giant letters, sparking, but not fading away, spelling out the word _WILL_. Or was it a name? Harry gazed at it, utterly bewildered. He had absolutely no idea what was going on.

The second firework still took him by surprise: a screech, a crackle, and a bang, forming another word: _YOU_.

Perhaps he ought to have moved, gone back to the office, or up to the castle, to find out just what was happening - but something about the way the letters lit up the sky transfixed him. He watched, heart in mouth, as the third firework exploded into more letters … for a moment he thought it read _MARY_ , but then he blinked, and saw that it was _MARRY._

Will you marry …

He knew what the fourth firework would bring before it did, but still gaped at the whole sentence, fizzing high above him. He felt like something should be clicking into place now, but his whole brain was cotton wool; nothing made sense. Was this – could this be -

"Well?" came a voice behind him, a tenth of a second after he became aware of the flowery scent on the air, and, shaking his head, he turned, half-grinning, half –

\- well, utterly bamboozled.

"Will you?"

Ginny came towards him across the pitch, and as she walked, hundreds of lights seemed to spring into existence around her, encircling them both, and still the fireworks hung overhead, and Harry struggled to find words – any words.

"I – I can't – _you_ – you did –" He shook his head again, as if he was trying to get water out of his ears. "I mean – _how?_ "

"Well, it wasn't easy," said Ginny reprovingly. "I had a lot of help. But –" she smiled at him, warm brown eyes reflecting the bright colours of the fireworks – "I wanted a big surprise."

"You certainly managed that," Harry said faintly.

"It was a lot of work, throwing off all your plans. You don't give up easily, do you?"

"Wait –" Harry frowned as he digested this. " _You_ were behind everything going wrong? But _how?_ "

"Like I said … I had a lot of help. And we worked hard! Ron had to disclose all your ideas, but even that wasn't enough – there had to be a bit of improvisation when you went rogue."

Harry thought back. "Fleur going into labour?"

"Faked." Ginny nodded. "Completely improvised on her part." She looked mildly impressed by her sister-in-law's ingenuity. "Bill cottoned on straight away, but poor Mum was really disappointed."

Harry snorted. "This is madness ... wait, hang on - tonight? Robards …"

"Oh yeah, he's in on it – he's been messing with your schedule. And Percy offered to waylay you on your way to Holyhead. Andromeda wasn't really called out that night, either."

"All these people," said Harry in disbelief, "conspiring to deceive me?"

"Conspiring to give you a surprise, for once," Ginny corrected. "Although I must admit, it was quite fun watching you try not to lose your head over this …"

"You're terrible."

"I know. Look, Harry, we all love you, and you've done so much for all of us … we just wanted to put on a big spectacle for you, for a change." Her expression became almost shy as she smiled up at him. "Me, especially."

Harry found himself once again lost for words as he reached out to enfold her in his arms. "I love you," he mumbled into her hair, breathing in her flowery scent.

"I love you, too. Hey!" Ginny exclaimed, making him jump. "You didn't say yes!"

"What?"

"I proposed, and you didn't say yes!"

"Well – obviously, yes, I thought that was obvious –"

She shook her head. "You have to _say_ it."

Harry grinned at the obstinate set of her jaw. "All right. _Yes_ , I will marry you. Oh – wait -" remembering suddenly, he fumbled in his pocket for the little box, from which he extracted the ring. Ginny, beaming – her eyes now over-bright - held out her left hand.

"It's _gorgeous_."

"There," said Harry, pleased. "Still managed to surprise you a little."

"Just a tiny bit," Ginny conceded, kissing him.


End file.
